Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/1/15
Oh, boy, as noted by Uncle Lumpy, deranged industrialist/nanny-marrier Milton Avery is back in the strip! When we last saw Milton a few years back in a plot I seem to have not covered in particular depth, his heart was on the verge of exploding because of his tightly wound business asshole lifestyle. After being vaguely threatening towards Rex for no good reason, it turned out that his real worry wasn’t over his heart, but his brain, which he was convinced was failing him. “You don’t have Alzheimer’s Disease until Rex says you do,” Heather declared, and I don’t remember if Rex weighed in one way or the other but today it’s pretty clear that he has Alzheimer’s Disease, or at least some other flavor of dementia. Looks like we’ve already found the excitiment of this new plot: can a senile and extremely wealthy man’s legal team keep him out of jail after he stabs a household employee to death?
Ha ha, yes, phones certainly do have a soporific effect that can smooth out conflict but also the passion of a life truly lived in the moment and OH MY GOD WHY IS THERE A PHONE IN FRONT OF THAT WEDGE OF SWISS CHEESE? Is the cheese alive? Has the Heathcliff creative team decided that, since all animals, predator and prey, are fully sapient in the strip, why not extend this to inanimate objects? Is every Heathcliff panel full of individual consciousnesses embedded in everything, fully aware, unable to communicate, and screaming?
Just a few comments this week, from when I was back in the saddle, but I think we can all agree that this one is pretty great:
“‘Like a dog to its own vomit…’ Daisy knows what’s up, and she is terrified.” –pastordan
And look at these hilarious runners up!
“The endless pleasant banality of suburban life was finally starting to break Trixie. At least Thirsty had his drinking to dull the torment of their existence but as an eternal baby she wasn’t even allowed that. ‘Disturb me! Terrify me! Make me feel something, make me feel anything!’ For her outburst, for trying to FEEL, a quiet timeout was her only reward. Even the punishments here were boring.” –Escape Zeppelin
“Future Les to Past Les: ‘Thirty bucks, kid. This ain’t a library.’” –handsome Harry Backstayge, idol of a million other women
“‘Keeping the shark on ice’ will be my new euphemism for sexual abstinence.” –Pozzo
“I love this completely senseless bit of non-plot where Lu Ann talks to an imaginary Margo, walks the street still talking, asks herself why Margo isn’t in the gallery when the gallery is closed (then how did Lu Ann get inside?), and decides to imagine a great little evening for her imaginary Margo. ‘I bet Greg takes her someplace nice, like the Charlie Bird in Soho. I bet they’re listening to jazz and eating their famous blue crab toast! Sigh. I wish Baldy McBaldbald would take me there.’” –Hogenmogen
“Can’t … stop … looking at … Ian’s beard! It’s like a giant pussy willow, or a baby weasel that fell asleep on his chin. I’m really weirded out by it, and yet, I want to pet it and take care of it.” –pugfuggly
“Much like an infant, Lu Ann still hasn’t grasped the concept of object permanence.” –TheDiva
“Y’all are barking up the wrong tree with this ‘Tobey/Ian/Director three-way’ stuff. Ian has clearly been sent out to seek a lover for his wife, and hopes he will be allowed to watch. Spoilers: he will not.” –Purple Prosecutor
“I hear she carved that horse from a larger horse.” –Trey James, on Facebook
“Is this the Glen Keane origin story? Thelma and Bil, having too many mouths to feed, abandoned ‘Billy’ in a Disney amusement park, and the Disney corporation raised him as an animator?” –DAS
“The truly ironic thing about the mass-production sculpting that Toby is doing is that we see in panel 1 that Ian really doesn’t even need another pair of bookends. Toby must therefore be selling them, as part of Santa Royale’s thriving tchotchke industry specializing in clay figurines filled with tequila. Order a bunch online now, from Toby’s Pinatas for Drunks! Our Ms. Bryson will be standing by, to steal your credit card number.” –seismic-2
Thanks to everyone who put some scratch in my tip jar! And let’s give thanks to our advertisers:
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Mary Worth, 7/31/15
Uh oh, looks like Ian’s plan to have Toby cook his boss dinner has hit its first snag: Toby has no desire to cook Ian’s boss dinner! That’s because Toby is not some young trophy wife who lounges around the condo pool gossipping with Mary all day while living off her husband’s posh academic salary; she’s an artist who Ian snatched away from the Greenwich Village scene to sterile southern California exurbia, and her creative urges still need an outlet. It appears that she’s moved away from the tiny paintings of her New York days to a new medium: tiny sculptures lovingly crafted then put on a shelf in her studio to be admired by nobody. Actually, that white lab coat makes her look more like a scientist, and she appears to be sculpting a tiny replica of Blucifer, the giant horse statue with glowing red eyes outside Denver Airport that literally killed its creator, so maybe she’s doing research on how to harness its evil powers. Better take Hilton out to dinner Ian! Better take him out to dinner … forever.
Dennis the Menace, 7/31/15
“The meaning here is that he’s literally wrecking our home, to be specific. He’s not breaking up a marriage by seducing anyone’s spouse, which is the usual meaning of the phrase. Just wanted to be really clear on that. Why would I even bring that up? He’s a child! I, uh, I really should walk this back, shouldn’t I.”
Family Circus, 7/31/15
The best part of this installment in the current “Keanes go to Disney World” sequence isn’t that Billy is being a moron; it’s that he seems to be all by himself, far from the hubbub of the main areas of the park. It’s as if his parents lured him to this out-of-the-way section, said, “Look, Billy, it says ‘PUSH’ in big letters! It’s very important that someone push it!”, and then ran away as soon as he was distracted.